


the lightning man

by angelheartbeat



Series: fuck it ill do it myself [6]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Fugitive Bruce Banner, M/M, Rain, Storms, Thunderstorms, and he takes care of him, i literally dont know how to tag this, thors injured and gets lightninged straight to his new boyf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-04-28 18:14:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14454978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelheartbeat/pseuds/angelheartbeat
Summary: While hes on the run, the lightning delivers a bleeding, bruised god to Bruce's door, and suddenly he's got a viable reason to stick around.





	the lightning man

**Author's Note:**

> anyway, theyre gay,
> 
> lets just say this is an au where thor gets banished to midgard and lands on bruces doorstep instead of near science thot (jane) in thor 1
> 
> also this is my 50th fic overall haha nice

Rain beat down on the tiny house, pounding the windows and roof so hard Bruce was worried they might cave in.

It was by far the fiercest storm he'd seen in years, lightning cracking every few seconds and barely a gap between the light and the thunder. Storms always relaxed him somewhat, chilled him out - it was just beautiful to watch the sky light up and hear the deep rumble cross the air. The thread of anxiety and fear it tugged at could be tamped down easily enough if he tried.

So he was sat in the porch of the admittedly rundown cottage he had found as he ran from place to place from authorities and Ross. It was out of the way and he felt virtually untraceable. Well, no doubt that would end soon enough, but for now, the storm kept him calm.

The entire sky lit up and grumbled loudly and violently, and Bruce closed his eyes, just feeling the wind on his face and the rain against his skin, soaking him to the bone. He'd be freezing later. He was freezing now, but it was good freezing. It made him feel alive, not want to claw his own skin off and get at the monster underneath.

Shaking his head, Bruce tried to get the thoughts out of his mind.  _Don't think about Hulk._ But really, it was impossible  _not_ to.

Lightning cracked right in front of him, right on his tiny patch of dying grass, and he jumped. He could have touched it, had he had the inclination to do so.

And then it just kept going. The thunder died out but the lightning kept crackling, a heavy strike worryingly close that seemed to be setting tiny fires to the grass around it. Lightning shouldn't do that. Lightning  _couldn't_ do that.

His mind ran through about twenty possibilities and variations of  _what the fuck?_ before the lightning disappeared, and then  _holy shit is that a person??_

A figure had appeared sprawled on the ground, and Bruce stood up, spilling some of his tea on his feet and swearing.  _Where the fuck..?_

The figure shifted slightly, if Bruce wasn't mistaken, and he snapped himself out of his shock as best he could, placed down his mug and ran out into the yard, trying to shield his eyes from the unrelenting rain. He reached the figure in what felt like the blink of an eye - he'd had a fair bit of practice running recently, after all - and fell to his knees, trying to roll the figure over so he could determine if he was breathing or not.  _Oh god please say he's breathing._

There was a concerning amount of blood smeared across the mans face and beard when Bruce rolled him over and he swore even louder, putting his ear to the guys lips and hearing faint breaths.

"I wasn't prepared for this shit today," Bruce mumbled, hoisting the man up and draping him over his shoulders. Jesus he was heavy. Must be all the muscle, which hadn't gone unnoticed - Bruce was just trying very hard not to think about it. "Okay, man, lets get you inside."

It took a lot longer to get back now Bruce was all but dragging an unconscious, bloodied person with him. The Other Guy wasn't at all happy with this new development, either - Bruce could feel him, pressure behind his eyes threatening danger, and it took a lot to push him down. He couldn't hulk out on an already injured stranger. 

Eventually he reached the house again, pulling the door shut behind him and laying the man down on his ragged sofa, exhaling a sigh of relief before descending right back into panic.  _Keep it together, Bruce._

Forcing himself back into action, Bruce began checking over the mans various cuts and bruises. Miraculously, they seemed to be minimal, considering he had seemed to appear out of nowhere except the fucking  _lightning._

Bruce was skimming his hands over the mans arms, trying to call back on his knowledge of medicine, when the man jerked awake, jolting Bruce back.

"Where am I?" he demanded, patting his hands on himself and turning to Bruce, eyes blazing. Bruce held his hands up in surrender.

"You're in my house, in Indiana." Well, its not  _his_ house. He's not sure who it belongs to. And Indiana was sort of a guess.

"What realm is this?" the man continued to demand, eyes narrowed in anger.

"Uh. Earth? Who are you? How'd you get here?" Bruce tried.

"I am Thor, son of Odin. I must return home." Thor swung his legs off of the sofa and stood, before immediately swaying. Bruce rushed to his side, holding him up just before he fell.

"Whoa! Hey! Sit down! You're injured!"

Indignant, Thor swatted him away. "Leave me! I am fine!" He lifted his head toward the ceiling, narrowing his eyes. "HEIMDALL!" he yelled, booming. "OPEN THE BIFROST!"

Bruce flinched and put his hands on Thor's arm again, trying to get him to stop yelling at the ceiling. "No, come on! I don't know how you got here but you have to rest, then you can go wherever you want."

Looking as though he was considering it, Thor huffed through his nose and sat down sharply, somewhat dragging Bruce with him before he thought to let go. "Fine. I will remain here."

Bruce gave him a weak thumbs up. "Thats the spirit. Okay, now you have to answer my questions. How the hell did you get here?"

"I was banished from my home, Asgard, and exiled here."

Nodding slowly, Bruce fought to keep from rolling his eyes. "Right. Well. I'm Bruce Banner. Do you have a surname, or is it just Thor? And also, Thor like the Norse god?"

Thor looked at him like he was stupid. "Thor  _Odinson._ "

"Right. Makes sense."

"And I do believe I was a god for some of your myths here on Midgard."

"No, no, Earth."

"Perhaps that is your nickname for it, but my home refers to it as Midgard." There was a cheeky twinkle in Thor's eye, and Bruce firmly ignored the stirring it instigated in his gut. This stranger was injured, lost and vulnerable and quite possibly drunk, and he was not going to confuse and make him uncomfortable by hitting on him.

Clearing his throat, Bruce stepped back, suddenly very aware of the distance between him and Thor. "So," he began, using his professional scientist voice. "You can stay here for a while, but I'm probably gonna be leaving myself soon, so what you choose to do then is your business. Do you want a drink, or something?"

Thor made a noise of approval. "A drink would be excellent. Why will you be leaving shortly? I was under the impression that you resided here."

Trotting into the kitchen and flicking on the kettle, Bruce raised his voice so Thor could still hear him. "Yeah, uh, kinda awkward story behind that. You don't wanna hear it."

He turned around and almost jumped at Thor standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame. "Do I not?"

"Yeah, no, I really don't think you do."

"You may be surprised."

Bruce chuckled dryly. "Yeah, and, so may you." 

The green blotch in Bruce's brain grumbled, though whether in assent or his typical anger Bruce didn't know. His limbs felt all kinds of tingly, and he took a moment to breathe before the kettle whistled and he could distract himself with making coffee.

"Do you want anything to eat?" Bruce asked, busying himself with instant coffee grounds and focusing on not spilling boiling water on his shaking hands.

"That would be wonderful. I have eternal gratitude for your hospitality."

Chuckling again, Bruce turned around to hand Thor his mug - "Careful, its hot," - before returning to rummage around in his cupboards for something vaguely edible. "I don't have much, so I'm really sorry I can't offer you anything better."

He landed on a box of pop tarts and pulled them out in triumph. "You can have these while I look for something better, if you want. They're too sweet for me."

Intrigued, Thor put his coffee down on the side and ripped into the box of pop tarts, eating them almost desperately, and Bruce raised his eyebrows even as he returned to looking through the cupboards. Shit, he really needed to move on soon. He couldn't afford to go shopping, and all that really remained in the cupboards were leftovers and the things he really hated.

"Okay, I have ramen noodles or pancake mix, both of which are kinda out of date, so unless you really want them- damn, you ate all the pop tarts already?"

Thor had the grace to look sheepish, a sprinkle on his top lip. "My apologies. They are delicious."

"Hey, I don't care. Can't stand them, myself." Bruce winced when he refocused on the blood smeared across Thor's cheek, having completely forgotten it in the sequence of events. "Let me get you a towel, or something. Theres blood all over your face. What happened to you?"

Thor touched his cheek gingerly. "I imagine the impact on the ground wounded me a touch."

"I should really have gotten you a towel earlier, you're soaking."

"As are you."

"Yeah, but it won't matter to me. I don't get sick."

Bruce had busied himself with digging around in a different cupboard, pulling out a towel triumphantly and turning around to walk back into the kitchen and wipe the blood off Thor's face.

Thor smiled gently, putting a hand on Bruce's as he placed the towel on his skin, and sending what felt like physical sparks up his arm. Every nerve ending felt fiery, and Bruce stilled as Thor leaned in.

"I can do it myself."

That was anticlimactic. Bruce felt like he was burning up as he let go of the towel, jabbering  _right, yeah, of course._

As he dropped his hands Thor smiled at him, before wiping away the blood covering his face to reveal just a few wounds, nothing major, and Bruce couldn't help but be relieved.

"So how come you got banished?" Bruce asked, hopping up onto the kitchen countertop, and Thor stopped wiping his face immediately, placing the towel on the side. "Shit. Sorry. Sensitive subject. I shouldn't have asked."

"I would prefer not to speak of it," Thor said calmly, with a note of repressed anger in his voice, and Bruce could have kicked himself.

The air was filled with uncomfortable tension that only strengthened as Thor awkwardly slurped at his coffee. 

"This drink, I like it," Thor said cheerfully once the mug was empty, and the air cleared considerably. "Another!" It cleared even moreso when he lifted the mug and smashed it hard on the ground, making Bruce jump.

"Whoa! What the fuck?!"

Bruce hopped down from the countertop, scooping up the shards of ceramic. Oh, he hoped whoever lived in this house wouldn't be pissed. Well, to be honest, they'd probably be more pissed that a squatter invited a second random stranger into their home.

Thor looked at him blankly. "The drink was delicious. I would like another."

"Yeah, but you can't just smash shit to get what you want! This isn't even mine! Ask nicely and I'd have made you more coffee with no trouble."

"My.. apologies."

"No more smashing. Deal?"

"..You have my word."

Bruce almost laughed out loud at the irony of  _him,_ him with  _Hulk_ in his head, master of smashing things, telling someone else not to smash stuff. 

"Would you be terribly offended if I once again asked why you would be moving on soon?" Thor asked suddenly, as Bruce tipped the ceramic into the trash and refilled the kettle.

Bruce deliberated over the best way to answer, before shrugging. "Lets just say some people are looking for me."

"And you do not want them to find you?"

"Not even a little bit."

"So you are on the run."

"Look, I backed off when I asked you something personal, can't you do the same?"

"My apologies. I was merely curious."

"Yeah, well, its not your business! I don't even know you!"

The outburst was unprecedented, and Bruce felt his pulse heighten, even moreso when he started to panic about it heightening. Thor looked mildly concerned and a little bit hurt, but Bruce was focused on breathing slow and keeping Hulk carefully leashed in his brain.

"Sorry," he said eventually, hissing through his teeth. He was surprised when Thor shot him a genuine grin, with no underlying resentment or fear.

"No, no, it was my fault. I pushed too far. I am already imposing on your temporary home - I should not have asked."

Thor moved closer, placed his hand atop Bruce's - cautious, careful, trying to gauge Bruce's reaction (which was externally minimal, but internally violently attracted to the electricity that ran from Thor to Bruce).

"Thank you, very much, from the bottom of my heart." Thor said sincerely, and Bruce's lips quirked upward, eyes meeting Thor's and locking into a gaze crackling with static, and Bruce was carefully ignoring the twisting in his gut and the desperate urge to get Thor on top of him.

"No problem," he said, brushing all images of Thor shirtless and in bed out of his mind (with a heavy degree of difficulty). "You wanna like, sleep on the couch then?"

Thor nodded with enthusiasm. "That would be wonderful."

"Alright. I'll go get you a blanket and stuff."

Lifting Bruce's hand up, Thor pressed a kiss to his knuckles and glanced up at his slowly reddening face, before winking and placing his hand back down on the counter.

As Bruce walked out of the kitchen his stomach was churning and his legs felt like jelly, which hadn't happened since the last time he saw Betty.

What the fuck was he meant to do now?

**Author's Note:**

> i know thor turns up in like a fuckin tornado in thor 1 and immediately starts yelling to heimdall and mjolnir but its called fucking creative liberty, susan
> 
> this has such an awkward ending but ngl? got bored i started writing this almost a month ago 
> 
> comments. they make my little grubby heart warm and fuzzy


End file.
